


Alex the Great

by ItsJustADream



Category: The Mummy (1999)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsJustADream/pseuds/ItsJustADream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Shot. Evy goes into labour but has to find a certain book before they can go to the hospital. Jonathon puts his foot in it, as usual, and Rick gets what he's always wanted-a family. A bit of fluff for the birth of Alex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alex the Great

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in five years, (and my first ever on AO3) so forgive me for being a tad rusty. This was originally going to be part of a longer piece but I liked it better as a one-shot. Hope you enjoy.  
> (Oh and I don't own the Mummy or the characters or anything like that; disclaimer y'all :P)

‘Evelyn?’ asked Rick, his voice straining the word melodically whilst trying to remain calm, ‘we really should be going.’

‘Just one moment, darling,’ she replied from somewhere upstairs.

Evy waddled bare-footed across the wood-panelled landing of their London mansion. Her black nightgown was hanging loose to reveal her swollen stomach, which was stretching the cotton of her nightgown almost to breaking point.

Rick however, was stood downstairs in the foyer; a suitcase at his feet and his coat and scarf already on. He rolled his eyes and slowly started climbing the stairs, sidestepping piles of books and ancient artefacts as he did so. 

 

‘I’ve got the car ready. We just need to—’ he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb and whistled.

‘I just need to find a book,’ she said.

 

Rick climbed the last few steps to the landing. He picked up a leather bound book from an end table and gently handed it to her.

‘Here you go, one book. But I really don’t think that there’ll be much down time, honey.’ 

Evy smiled bemusedly and took the book from her husband. She read the spine.

‘This is a book on Alexander the Great,’ she laughed, ‘I’m looking for Hathor.’

She plodded forwards with one hand resting on her stomach. She came to a stop at one of the large book shelves that lined the walls before grabbing hold of the wooden ladder and beginning to climb. Rick rushed forwards.

 

‘Woah there. What are you doing?’ he asked.

‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ 

‘Maybe you should get down and let me do that?’ suggested Rick, ‘Honey,’ he added in an afterthought. 

‘Honesty, I’m not an invalid. I’ll just get the book and we can go.’

 

She stopped on the second rung of the ladder and held onto her stomach, leaning forward and resting her head against the worn spines of the books she had grown up with. Rick placed his hands gently on her shoulders.

‘Evelyn?’ he asked cautiously.

Evy groaned against the books. They comforted her, whispering their centuries of wisdom, each spine soaked with a thousand memories of her past. In a small way, they even felt like the comforting hands of the parents that she had lost far too soon. 

‘I’m okay, just a contraction,’ said Evy.

 

She straightened up and regained her climb of the ladder. She came to a stop once she was just around shoulder height with Rick, which felt far too high for him but he felt it was unwise to argue with her right now.

‘Ah, Hathor,’ she smiled, removing the dusty volume from the shelf and handing it to her husband.

He ran a hand over the embossed cover. An image of an Egyptian woman with the ears and horns of a cow was on the front cover.

‘She was the Ancient Egyptian goddess of fertility,’ Evy explained.

‘Don’t you think we’re a little past that point by now?’ he joked.

‘It was my mother’s book,’ Evy explained, ‘my father bought it for her when she gave birth to Jonathon, she’s also the protector of women.’

 

Rick’s hold of the book softened and he helped his wife down the final few rungs of the ladder. He leaned forwards and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. At that moment the front door burst open and the house was filled with loud and very off-key singing.

‘Speaking of Jonathon,’ Evy sighed against Rick’s face.

 

She took hold of the book, and with one hand supporting her aching back, slowly made her way towards the steps.

‘There they are!’ Jonathon yelled out, ‘there’s my favourite people.’

 

He had a drunk blonde on his arm who was giggling at his every word but her eyes never left the golden watch around his wrist. 

‘Jonathon, when we said you could stay here for a couple of days, I didn’t think you’d be moving in,’ said Rick.

‘Well old bean, you just can’t—arghh!’

Jonathon slipped over, the blonde unhooking herself from his dinner jacket just in time to keep herself upright.

‘What is this?’ he padded at the damp floor.

‘Oh don’t mind that,’ Evy said dismissively, ‘it’s just my waters.’ 

 

She made it down the last few steps and passed the horrified Jonathon, still sat on the floor. The blonde was looking for something to steal before she edged her way out.  
‘She your wife?’ she asked with an arched eyebrow.

‘What? No. She’s my—’ Jonathon seemed to remember what he was sat in mid-sentence and shuddered, ‘—sister.’

Rick’s eyebrows knitted together in a look half way between sympathy and amusement for his brother-in-law as he held out a hand to help him up. Jonathon took it gratefully and Rick wiped his hand on Jonathon’s jacket.

‘Thanks,’ said Jonathon before turning back to his guest who was closer to the door than he had remembered.

‘It’s getting late,’ she said.

‘It’s not always like this, I swear—wait a minute. Are you in labour, Evy?’ he spun around on his heel to face his sister.

 

Evy had disappeared into a closet but re-emerged at the sound of her name, now fully dressed with the Hathor book clutched protectively under her arm.

‘Honestly Jonathon, don’t you start making a big fuss too.’ 

‘Evy, I’m going to be an uncle?’ he started to tear up.

Evy rolled her eyes.

‘You’ve known about this for nine months, Jonathon,’ she scowled but couldn’t help herself from smiling in the end.

‘Not if we don’t get to the hospital soon,’ reminded Rick. 

‘Yes, right, right,’ said Jonathon.

 

He rushed forwards and supported Evy by her underarm and led her forwards.

‘I’m not an in—ooh!’ 

She clutched hard onto Jonathon’s shoulder as another contraction took hold. Jonathon screamed out in pain and Rick walked forwards to help his wife.

‘They’re getting closer now,’ stated Rick, ‘we really have to go, honey.’

‘We’ve—battled—mummies—for—crying out loud,’ she panted.

‘Yes, but this time you’re the mummy, sis.’

Jonathon grinned at his own joke but Rick shot him a warning look. 

‘Are you saying I look dead?’ Evy snapped.

‘No, what? Well…no! Of course not, old mum.’

Evy dug her nails deeper into Jonathon’s shoulder before straightening up as much as she could and making her way towards the door.

‘Jonathon, get the bags,’ said Rick.

He pointed to the suitcase by the door and Jonathon raced forwards to pick them up, thankful to be free from his sister’s grip. Rick moved gently to support his wife and help her towards the door.

‘Next big adventure right?’ he raised his eyebrows with a vulnerable smile.

‘Rick, I’m scared,’ she admitted.

‘You?’ he spoke gently, ‘you’ve fought mummies, remember?’ 

He kissed her gently on her forehead, keeping to himself the fact that he was terrified. 

‘I think I’d rather take on the mummy right now,’ she said, clutching her stomach.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jonathon sat in the waiting room of the London hospital in a thick cloud of smoke. Men of all varieties sat in the seats around him; tall men, skinny men, men with their grubby sleeves rolled up to their elbows, and men in freshly pressed shirts. Large men, short men, men who looked like they could knock him out with a single blow. But there was one thing that he was certain they all had in common; they were fathers. Or at the very least would become them very soon. Jonathon felt very out of place.

Rick had gone in with her, of course. Argued with the midwives who said that it just wasn’t right. But that was O’Connell. They did everything together, and he wasn’t about to let her go through with this alone. Jonathon had decided to stay where it was safe, and retreat to the smokey haven of the waiting room.  
He was currently squashed between two burly men, one of them with a sour expression and the other happily puffing on a fat cigar.

 

‘I say, I don’t suppose you have a spare do you?’ he asked, pointing to the cigar.

The man reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a fresh cigar.

‘Your first?’ he asked.

‘Cigar? No, picked up rather a fancy for them at Cambridge a few years back. Can’t get a decent one in Egypt though. Terrible habit, I really should stop,’ he said, lifting the cigar to his lips and taking a deep drag.

Jonathon sighed and sagged into his seat.

 

‘I meant child,’ corrected the man.

‘Oh, right,’ said Jonathon.

He looked down at the cigar in his hands, fearful that the man might decide to take it back if he found out he was childless.

‘Yeah, the old bird’s in there now,’ said Jonathon, straightening up in his seat, ‘We’ve already got four little tikes at home,’ he lied, picturing his imaginary wife and their imaginary children.

He liked to picture her as blonde, a model or an actress perhaps, and extremely attractive, and they had strong young boys, and perhaps a daughter. All of them adored him of course. Jonathon felt almost a longing for them to be real for a moment.

‘I’ve got two,’ said the man, ‘girls,’ he looked to the ground with a sigh.

‘Well here’s hoping to a lad, ay?’ he lifted his cigar into the air in a toast.

‘Same to you,’ the man returned the gesture.

‘Mr Carnahan?’ asked a nurse, stepping into the waiting room.

Jonathon stood up and shook the man by the hand, ‘moment of truth, ay?’

‘Your sister will see you now,’ said the nurse.

The face of the man with the cigars fell into a look of disgust.

‘It’s not what you think,’ Jonathon added quickly.

The man wiped his hand on his jacket, scared he might catch incest and Jonathon clutched the cigar closer to himself; quickly following after the nurse.

 

She led him to a ward with two rows of neat little beds with pink curtains. The first three beds on either side were empty, but the forth had a curtain screen partially blocking his view. The nurse came to a halt and Jonathon peeked around. 

 

Evy was sat up in the bed looking exhausted and Rick was in a little wooden chair beside her, holding onto her hand, and there, clutched in her free arm was a tiny bundle of blankets.

‘It’s a boy, Jonathon,’ grinned Evy. 

He took a step closer and peered inside of the blankets. This tiny, bald, wrinkled thing was his nephew, and although he wasn’t made of gold, or diamonds, Jonathon had never seen a treasure so precious. There was something else in the blankets too. A book. Jonathon recognised it at once and he had to fight back a tear. 

‘Well done, old mum, well done,’ he said.

Rick stood up to embrace his brother-in-law.

‘What is that?’ he asked, looking down at the cigar in his hands.

‘Oh, nothing, just a toast to the baby’s health.’

‘You shouldn’t have,’ said Rick.

He took it from Jonathon’s hand and slipped it into his own pocket.

‘Well actually—’ 

 

Jonathon was about to argue but at that moment the baby let out a little cry and he decided not to fight it. Instead he went off in search of another chair.  
Rick returned to his seat and put his arm around his wife. He peered into the blankets at the face of his son and felt such a raw rush of emotions that he had remind himself that this was real life. He had started as a boy with nothing, rotting in an orphanage in Cairo, destined to hang in the same place and now he was a man with the entire world; all because of her. He looked at Evy and planted a gentle kiss on her lips; she had given him the world.

‘Has the lad got a name then, old chaps?’ asked Jonathon, sitting in his chair the wrong way round and leaning his chin on the backrest.

‘Alex,’ said Evy with a small smile.

This was the first that Rick had heard of it. He replayed the name in his head and liked the sound of it.

‘After Alexandria, where mum was born,’ explained Evy, ‘and where we spent our honeymoon,’ she added to Rick.

‘Alex the Great,’ said Jonathon with a smile, ‘we’re expecting big things from you, lad.’ 

‘He’ll be smart, like his mother,’ said Rick.

‘And tough, like his father,’ replied Evy.

‘And incredibly charming, like his uncle,’ added Jonathon.

Evy and Rick turned to glare at him.

‘Okay, okay,’ he amended, ‘I say though, maybe he’ll even take on a mummy someday, put us all to shame.’

They all laughed.


End file.
